Next I'm going to read a library book
During the last week of writing, I felt like this book was one of those oeuvres that one shoves under the bed, never to be unboxed again. I know it’s typical to feel like a draft is bad, so I’m not deleting it or anything radical, but I slogged forward only because I was getting close. I was challenging myself to develop endurance and refuse to give up, not because I felt like I was having any breakthroughs as a writer.
But in the last couple of days . . . I figured out who did it. I remembered some loose ends. I got some good sentences and nice connections. And how much is a lot of writing to do in a day? Pfft, I’m finished with the first 400 words before the coffee pot has finished perking. What a habit to carry forward!
I knew I was starting without much planning, and I thought I’d come up with the needed story pieces on the way. But I started the month so very tired and then added stress: work deadlines, computer problems, car problems, school reports, sniffles. My mind gets less elastic when these things start piling on—go figure.
Oh, one more, because I can
One creative joy in the midst of all that: when kid2 decided for a few days to join in. He’d sit with me and scribble away in a little notebook while I typed. He started out with apparently universal questions: how long does it have to be? Do I have to worry about spelling? How about capital letters? What happens if I finish the story before I finish the pages? And then off he’d go, writing away, stare at the ceiling, write some more . . .
Even in my cranky mood about this draft, there’s one aspect I’m glad about. The premise had been burbling around in the pipeline, clamoring for attention with a couple of other ideas. By sticking with NaNo, I Drano-ed this hairball through and can move on to the next thing. Imagining a concept and then figuring out what sentence to put on the page next: always a good exercise, and one I will enjoy in a month or two when I again become verbal.
I think she’s saying “miso,” not “diesel” . . .
